Latest posts
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Workers Over Billionaires: Labor Day as America’s Awkward Family Reunion
On September 1, 2025—Labor Day— America finally remembered what the holiday was supposed to be about: not barbecue sales at Home Depot, not posting an “end of summer” bikini pic, but actual workers demanding rights. Thousands marched in hundreds to 1,000+ “Workers Over Billionaires” rallies nationwide. The very phrase carried its own absurd poetry. Workers.
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The Great Victory Parade: When History Becomes State-Sponsored Fanfiction
There are two things authoritarian governments love more than power: parades and revisionist history. So it was no surprise that on September 1–3, 2025, Beijing gave us both in one dazzling, over-produced spectacle—an 80th-anniversary Victory Day parade so self-congratulatory it made the Oscars look humble. Xi Jinping, standing tall on his reviewing platform, hosted none
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iPhone 17: The Awe-Dropping Slab We’ll All Pretend Not to Need, Then Buy Anyway
On September 9, 2025 at 10 a.m. PT, Apple will once again transform its glass spaceship into a megachurch of consumer longing, inviting the faithful to witness what it calls the “Awe-dropping” keynote. The name alone is a corporate sleight of hand: awe as in wonder, drop as in your rent money, and keynote as
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ICE Storm: Trump, Kristi Noem, and the Great Chicago Occupation
The Trump administration has a way of treating cities like wayward children—Chicago most of all. For decades, conservative politicians have invoked it as shorthand for chaos, crime, and everything wrong with “blue America.” To them, Chicago is less a place where millions of people live, work, and build lives, and more a stage for proving
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Rudy Giuliani and the Post-Motorcade Fragility of Heroes
On August 30–31, 2025, Rudy Giuliani once again managed to headline America’s surrealist carnival, though this time not with a press conference at a landscaping company or a leaked deposition. Instead, at 81 years old, the former mayor of New York City found himself in a New Hampshire trauma center, nursing a fractured thoracic vertebra
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The Chains That Bind Us: A Love Letter to America’s Most Hated On Restaurants
It’s fashionable in 2025 to sneer at the chain restaurant. The discourse demands that we all pretend our palates are calibrated exclusively for chef-driven farm-to-table concepts where someone in a denim apron insists the kale was “foraged.” To admit you still eat at Olive Garden is like confessing you still burn CDs or own a
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Prestige TV, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Firehose
By 2025, prestige television no longer means anything. It’s like calling water wet, or calling Marvel “cinema” just to rile up Scorsese. Prestige used to be rarefied air—The Sopranos, The Wire, Mad Men. Now it’s practically background radiation, humming behind every streaming app. Prestige has metastasized. Every show arrives pre-packaged as “prestige,” the way cereal
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Cardi B v. The Courtroom: When Justice Goes Viral
By the summer of 2025, America had already transformed nearly every human institution into content. Elections are Twitch streams. Presidential debates are meme generators. Even funerals trend if the right celebrity posts a photo. It was only a matter of time before the courtroom—long a solemn stage for justice—was converted into a live-action reality show.
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Nano Banana: How Google Turned Your Face Into Clip Art
In August 2025, Google launched a product that proves Silicon Valley has officially run out of adult supervision. It’s called Nano Banana, a name so unserious it could double as a Mario Kart power-up, yet it refers to something deadly earnest: the Gemini 2.5 Flash Image model. The marketing copy insists it will “democratize sophisticated
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Meghan Trainor vs. the Judgmental Treadmill
There are few things more American than policing a woman’s body. Apple pie, baseball, and the relentless demand that every female celebrity perform an impossible balancing act for a crowd of spectators who will boo no matter where she lands. In 2025, Meghan Trainor has become the latest sacrificial lamb to the treadmill that isn’t